Exsanguination
by Preybird
Summary: The Shadow armies have been broken, their forces routed. Humanity is safer than it has ever been, yet a new cult threatens to upset the balance. Are they merely people seeking salvation, or is it something more insidious?
1. The Unforgiven

**The Unforgiven**

Lance groggily rolled over in bed, his arm reaching out to cuddle Amber. When his hand connected with the bed sheets instead of a warm body he woke with a start. Sitting up, he looked around the darkened room. In the kitchen he could just make out the flicker of a candle. Frowning, he climbed out of bed.

Amber was leaning on the kitchen bench, head in her hands. It was obvious she had been crying, and Lance instinctively put his arms around her in a warm embrace. Realising Lance was there Amber sniffed and slowly lifted her head up.

"I'm sorry." She whispered. "I wish the nightmares would stop."

"It's ok. You're doing well." Lance whispered back. "It's not every night now. We'll get there."

Amber ran her hands along his arms as she rose to full height. "I hope so. It's just…." She sniffed again. "I don't want this to affect us, you know?"

"It won't." Lance replied warmly.

Amber frowned and rubbed her eyes. "You should get some sleep. Zhanna wanted to see you at the crack of dawn, and that's only a couple of hours away."

"Come on then, we could both use some rest."

Amber reached up and gently caressed Lance's face. "You go on ahead. I won't be sleeping."

Lance gave her a peck on the forehead and nodded. "Ok, but don't stay here all night." As he went back to the bed he could hear Amber's elbows hit the kitchen bench again.

* * *

When Lance woke up and got ready, he found Amber asleep on the floor from sheer exhaustion. It hadn't been a warm night and with only her gown to cover her, she was cold to the touch. Gently lifting her up, Lance carried her to the bed and covered her over before leaving. At least she'd be warm when she woke up.

While it was cold inside it was borderline freezing out, but it didn't stop Corvinus from being abuzz from activity. It had been six months since Kairos' assault, and much of the important reconstruction was complete, though there were still large parts of the city that were in ruin, and it would take years to make them habitable again.

Lance walked briskly to the temple, partly because he was late, and partly because he wanted to keep his body temperature up. Zhanna had been extremely cryptic with her request, providing no explanation other than "It's important, be here at dawn". Considering she had saved the lives of both Amber and Lyra, he had no issue with hearing her out.

The temple dominated the skyline, its dome easily being twice the height of the buildings around it. In fact the only buildings that were taller were the Governor's palace and the _Collegia Arcanus_, which stood even taller than the palace. Lance had to wonder if Nishaven had done that on purpose to keep an eye on the Governor and remind him of who wielded the real power in this city.

Walking through the massive arch into the temple proper always gave Lance a few chills. He'd led a less than perfect life, and part of him always expected some bolt of holy lightning to smite his wicked soul. It was all in his head, but having seen what Zhanna and others could do, he didn't discount anything anymore.

Zhanna had her back to him and was tending to the candles near the altar. As she leaned over to light some of the lower candles Lance realised exactly why temple attendance had shot up since she'd arrived here. He smiled wickedly at that thought.

"You're late Lance." Zhanna stated without looking up. "I did say dawn."

"Apologies Zhanna." Lance replied as he walked up to the altar. "Amber had another nightmare."

Zhanna looked at him with an expression of pure sadness on her face. "The poor woman. I wish my healing extended to the mind, but unfortunately that's in the hands of a power much higher than I."

"We're getting there." Lance said, trying to hide his sadness. "At least it's only most nights now, not all."

Zhanna nodded as she placed a hand on his shoulder. "That's good to hear."

"What did you want to see me about?" Lance asked.

"Yes, of course." She replied. "It wouldn't do for me to have dragged you out here then not tell you what I wanted. Have you heard of the Order of the Sanguine?"

Lance furrowed his brow. "No, what is it?"

"A cult. An insidious cult that worships the blood. They believe that through exsanguination lies purity of soul and freedom from pain and suffering."

"That sounds pretty far-fetched." Lance replied. "So they bleed themselves to purify the soul?"

Zhanna nodded. "It seems these days people are looking for salvation more than ever, and willing to do anything to attain it."

"But we're winning the war. Since Kairos' death there hasn't been a single serious Shadow incursion, and no leader has been able to bring the factions together like he did. We're safer than we've ever been."

"Maybe in the highly populated areas this is true, but the outlying settlements are still under attack on a weekly basis. It's there that this Order is taking hold. They're preying on the weak to bolster their ranks."

Lance frowned. "But why? Is it about money? Is there some 'messiah' getting rich of these poor people?"

Zhanna shrugged. "I don't know, and that's what I want you to find out. From what I've been told, the township of Underwood has a very strong contingent of these cultists. I want you to head over there and see what you can find out."

"Underwood? That's four days away!" Lance exclaimed.

"I know, but I don't trust anyone else with this. I know you'll get the answers." Zhanna replied.

"But Amber... she can't leave her duties for that long." Lance frowned. "The Palace Guard would fall apart without her." It wasn't an exaggeration. After Kairos most of the Guard were dead, and they'd been hurriedly replenished with conscripts. Barely one in ten was over sixteen. "And I'm worried about her if I'm not there at night."

"I know Lance, but you've going to have to do this alone." Zhanna said. "I'll make sure someone will be with her at night."

Lance smirked. "I know Amber, she'll never stand for being mollycoddled. But if you could have someone nearby but out of sight, I'd most appreciate it."

"My people are not spies like yours." Zhanna stated. "Maybe if that's what you want you should look within your own organisation."

Lance pondered for a moment. "Ok, I've got just the person."

* * *

"I can't believe you didn't think of me straight away!" Lyra exclaimed, slapping Lance on the arm.

"Ow! I'm sorry!" Lance shouted. "Stop hitting me!"

She whacked him again. "Only when you realise you should ALWAYS come to me first." Lyra grinned. "Honestly, asking Zhanna's people to remain unseen. Pah."

"Well, I take that to mean you'll help me out?"

Lyra nodded. "Of course I will. Trust me, Amber won't even know I'm there." She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Now you'd better go and show her a good time before you leave."

Lance smiled. "I know just the place."

* * *

It had been a good night, Amber and Lance had dined at the finest seafood restaurant still standing in Corvinus, and then taken the long way home, just savouring the gentle moonlight. The night sky was clear and the city was serene. It just felt nice. Lance grimaced when he realised just how long he was going to be away.

"I'll be ok you know." Amber said. "I can tell you're worried."

"I just want to be there." Lance replied. "Don't want to feel like I'm abandoning you."

"You're not. You've got a job to do too." Amber smirked. "And don't worry, I'll ignore Lyra."

"What? How did you know?!" Lance exclaimed.

"Oh come on, of course you're going to have someone there." Amber replied, wrapping her arm around his waist. "But I do appreciate the concern. As long as she's not going to be peering through the windows at night."

"I'll tell her to leave the climbing hooks at home then." Lance grinned, and was promptly smacked on the shoulder in response.

He grabbed Amber and embraced her tight. He was going to miss this.

* * *

Four days of hard riding later and the township of Underwood finally came into sight. Unlike Corvinus, Windspire, or Ravendark there were no guard towers, no defensive walls. These people only had themselves and their meagre city guard to stop the Shadow. Suddenly Lance had a new understanding as to why people might turn to other things for salvation.

Sighing deeply, Lance spurred his horse into the township. Time to get this over with.


	2. Where The Wild Things Are

**Where the Wild Things Are**

Lance had to admit that Underwood was quite pleasant, serene even. Farmers toiled away, tending to crops. Children played in the parks, and the tiny commercial centre of the town was alive with activity, people dining in cafés, shopping for wares or just enjoying the sunshine.

Dominating the town square was a single giant tree, and it was not hard to realise how the town had arrived at its name. Craning his neck skyward, Lance could not fathom how a single tree could grow so large. At its base it was easily four metres in diameter, and it must've been almost a hundred metres high. Despite its size it didn't provide a great deal of shade, the branches did not spread out very far from the base, making it look like a giant arrow pointing to the heavens.

Tying his horse to a nearby hitching post, Lance sat down on a park bench and contemplated his first move, besides finding a place to stay while he was here. He knew it wouldn't do to just ask around about an underground cult, he would have to use a bit more tact than that. As he pondered, a loud rhetoric interrupted his thoughts. Looking up, he could see a man in blood red robes standing on a crate, arms outstretched and screaming like a mad prophet.

It looked like he wouldn't need much tact after all.

Lance got up and walked over to the man and the small crowd that had congregated around him. Stitched onto his robes was a small symbol, three blood drops arranged in a triangle formation. In one hand was a tattered black book, in the other an exceptionally sharp looking razor. As he lifted his arms once again the sleeves of the robe slid down, and Lance could see the man's arms were covered in scar tissue. _This guy has obviously been a member for some time._

Aware of Lance's curiosity, and possibly drawn to his out of place attire, the man turned to face him. "You sir! Do you seek salvation? Do you seek enlightenment?!" He preached, his voice a thunderous roar.

"I could be." Lance replied simply, crossing his arms.

That was enough for the cultist. "My good sir, I offer you those things. In the face of the monsters that walk this land, I offer you peace and protection. The Order provides a path to purity of the soul!"

"And how does that save me from being ripped limb from limb by a Gargoyle?" Lance mocked. He wanted to get this guy going, but more than that, he wanted to look like an unbeliever ripe for conversion.

"The Shadow are monsters of impurity, they have been drawn to the sins of this world! Those pure of the soul have nothing to fear! Even now, this town has been free of the Shadow for seven cycles of the moon, for the Order has brought purity to Underwood!"

"Perhaps the Shadow have merely moved on to other targets?" Lance retorted. "Or perhaps they have been driven from the area by the Human Alliance?"

"I assure you the Human Alliance has no interest in these parts. You only need to look around to realise they have abandoned us to our fate! Where are the soldiers? Where are the walls, the guard towers? The Underwood guard made plea upon plea for reinforcements during our darkest hour, but their calls went unheeded!"

Lance nodded slightly, as though the seed of belief had been placed in his mind. "How may I find out more?"

The man opened his tattered book, and in between the cover and the first page were a number of pamphlets. He handed one to Lance. "Please good sir, come join us and purify your soul. Allow me to call you my brother."

Lance nodded and returned to his horse. _Well, I found the Order. Now I have to find a bed._

* * *

_What the hell is this?_

Lance wrinkled his nose in disgust at his lodgings. _Best in Underwood my left butt cheek._ The bed was no more than four bales of hay hastily covered with a bed sheet, and the window was… well there was no actual window, it was just a hole in the wall with drapes. There was a single chair in the room, but looking at it, Lance doubted it could hold his weight.

Without further dwelling on the quality of his accommodation he tossed his rucksack on the bed and began to unpack his gear. First order of business was, as always, defence. He laid out his repertoire of blades and throwing knives on the bed and then began secreting them around the room. He kept a trio of throwing knives and his kukri for himself.

Next up he had to do something about that window. All the defensive measures in the world didn't mean much if an intruder had an open entryway, which meant he needed to board that window up somehow. He realised that maybe the chair had some use after all…

Lance picked up the chair and smashed it against the wall, the nails holding it together becoming dislodged and causing the whole thing to fall apart. Finding some pieces of wood that still had the nails in them, Lance boarded up the window as best he could using the handle of his kukri as a hammer. When he was finished he realised it wouldn't stop a determined intruder, but at least they'd have to make some noise getting in, which could mean the difference between living and dying.

Lastly he unpacked the rest of his gear, his clothes, belts, cloak and other 'work gear', and lastly a small case given to him by Zhanna just before he had left, containing a trio of salves. Each of the healing salves was a different colour, and all she had advised about them was that the blue was preventative, the green curative, and the red defensive. He didn't know what was going to be befalling him in the future, so he stashed them on his person as opposed to leaving them in his room.

Somewhat satisfied with his efforts, Lance headed off to his next port of call, the Underwood Guard station.

* * *

"The Order of the Sanguine?" replied the Chief of the Guard, a rotund man by the name of Sameth. "Bunch of freaks, but they're mostly harmless. The Priestly Order doesn't think much of them." He cocked an eyebrow. "You're not thinking of joining them are you?"

Lance shook his head. "Of course not. I was accosted by one of these Order guys in the street and he creeped me out." He wasn't yet ready to trust anyone here with knowledge of his true mission, so for the moment it was time to play dumb tourist. "He looked as though he liked to cut himself."

"Yeah that's them; they believe that when they bleed, they bleed out their sin. So they cut themselves to expedite the process, so to speak."

"Creepy. He also said crazy stuff around purity of soul keeping the Shadow away, and that Underwood hadn't been attacked because of the Order."

"I must admit since the Order started up here there haven't been any attacks. But where they say it's because they are pure, I say it's a coincidence." Sameth sighed. "Regardless the reprieve is welcome. We used to get attacked almost on a weekly basis. Just small strikes, but nonetheless."

"Sounds suspicious to me."

"Yeah well, there's no evidence to say they're up to something." Sameth replied. "Did you want to report this guy?"

Lance frowned. "Well, he basically just thrust a pamphlet in my face and preached at me for a few minutes. I guess it probably doesn't even count as public disturbance?"

"Not really." Sameth shook his head. "So no report then?"

"No."

Sameth smiled for the first time since this meeting began. "Less paperwork for me then. I am sorry you were hassled by them though."

Lance stood up and shook Sameth's hand. "No problem. As long as I know they're harmless. Thanks for your time."

On the way out of the station, Lance noticed a missing persons notice board, covered with drawings of people. There were so many that you could barely seek the corkboard the pictures were pinned to. Counting them out, Lance saw that there were thirty five people reported missing in the last month, over one a day. That was an insane number of people for such a small town.

It didn't take a genius to realise something was going on in Underwood, and Sameth was either too stupid or lazy to see it, or he was up to his neck in it. Whichever it was it wasn't good, and Lance had better move quickly if he wanted to get some answers.


	3. Creeping Death

**Creeping Death**

Lance looked down at the corpse at his feet. He had followed the Guard here and waited on a nearby rooftop while the Guard had cordoned off the area and examined the victim. Well, not so much examine as kick the poor guy a couple of times to make sure he was actually dead, before checking his pockets. Not finding any money or goods, they had chalked it up to a deadly mugging and moved on, leaving Lance to conduct his own investigation.

The alleyway they had found him in was behind a small grocery, the owner reporting it after he had come across the victim when taking the bins out. From what Lance had overheard of the interview, the owner did not see anything, and had found the victim already long dead.

Crouching down, Lance first got a general impression of the corpse. The man looked to be in his early to mid-thirties, dark hair and a short beard. His skin had well and truly taken on a deathly pallor, and his joints were stiff but still able to be manipulated. As a very rough guess Lance would say this man had been dead for at least eight hours and less than twelve.

He wore the traditional trappings of a farmer, though his clothes were absolutely soaked in blood. Like the Guard, Lance could find nothing as he went through his pockets. Lance did however find the wound which killed him, a stiletto strike into his flank. The strike was intended to kill him through blood loss, and it would've taken a few minutes for him to die. Not a good way to go.

Lance began checking the man's arms, legs and chest for other wounds, signs of a struggle, anything. On the left side of his chest, just under his shirt neckline he felt a rough patch of skin. Pulling the shirt back he found a branding, three blood drops in a triangle formation. _The symbol of the Order. That settles it._ Combined with the cause of death, there was no escaping the conclusion. Lance once again had to wonder about the Guard and just how concerned they were about this organisation.

Standing up, Lance considered his next move. With no identification on the body, there was little in the way of leads. He was obviously a farmer, so Lance could go door to door, but he didn't have time to spend doing that. Lance decided the best thing to do would be to go back to the Guard station and that missing persons board.

The one question that plagued him as he walked was if the victim was a target of the Order, or a member of the Order. And if they were a member, had they failed some initiation rite or had they betrayed them? Two of those three were very bad, the other wasn't much better.

The station seemed as lethargic as it was yesterday, despite the fact there had just been a murder in the town. Lance wasted no time engaging any of the Guard in conversation and instead headed straight for the board. Sure enough the man's face was there, an Edgar Vancet. _Odd name,_ Lance thought as he quickly took the picture down and stuffed it into his pocket. Spinning around he headed straight out and to the address on the paper.

* * *

The Vancet homestead was very quiet for a farm in the middle of harvest season, which had Lance concerned. He was even more concerned when he found the front door wasn't bolted shut, as was the norm in these dangerous times. Drawing his kukri, Lance slowly entered the house and had a look around. He had entered in the living area, which seemed quite normal, nothing was out of place and it looked recently lived in. With nothing of interest there, Lance moved on.

It was in the bedroom where he found what he had feared. The Vancet family was dead, bled out using the same stiletto strikes and then laid out on the bed together, a woman and three young boys. Lance had to pause to wipe his eyes before continuing, their deaths just feeling so _senseless_. Slowly examining the bodies, Lance discovered bruising on their arms and necks, indicating they were restrained while they bled out. Each also had the mark of the Order branded on them.

With nothing more he could do for the family, Lance began to search for an answer to his question around Edgar, was he one of the Order? He had determined there was no one in the house, so he began rifling through the house with haste, uncaring for the noise he made. Much of what Lance discovered was the normal things you would expect to find, receipts for sales of produce and purchase of equipment, clothing, toys. He was about to give up when he noticed a painting on the wall of a very familiar old man. Looking closer he realised it was a stylized portrait of Wizent.

Realising this, Lance looked around with a new eye. And sure enough there were little religious items scattered around amongst the decorations, things he had missed in his first pass. Upstairs in the wardrobes he found the family's Sunday bests, and in the bedside drawers there were religious texts. There was no way this family of devout individuals had joined a blood cult. They were targets pure and simple. But what could they have done to earn the ire of the Order? It was time to find out.

* * *

"Terrible business, poor Edgar." The head priest of Underwood sighed. "He and his family have come here every Sunday for a very long time. The nicest people, and I can't imagine why anyone would want to hurt them. You were a friend of theirs?"

"An old friend from a very long time ago." Lance replied solemnly. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name before, Father..?"

"Byrne."

"Father Byrne, do you know why anyone would want to kill Edgar and his family?" Lance asked. "Did he make any enemies?"

"None that I can think of, but he did take issue to that heathen cult, the Order of the Sanguine. But then our entire congregation does." Father Byrne replied. "Do you think they may have had something to do with it?"

Lance shook his head. "I don't know. I just can't believe this has happened."

Father Byrne nodded. "I suppose I shall have to make arrangements, as his entire family is no longer with us. So senseless, especially the children. The boys were so full of life, and Emelia was never without a smile."

_Emelia?!_ Alarm bells went off in Lance's head. "Father, I need to return to the house to help the Guard, can you keep me informed please?"

"Of course."

Lance maintained a casual exterior until such time as he had left the temple, before breaking into a sprint. _There were only three boys there, Emelia might still be alive!_

He crossed the town in record time, barging his way through the Vancet's door and barrelling into the living room wall through sheer momentum. Once he had recovered from the impact, Lance resumed his search with renewed vigour. He shouted Emelia's name as he did, hoping the girl was hiding in a wardrobe or under a bed somewhere. In the laundry he found a trapdoor, leading to a storage area under the house. Hoping against hope, he threw it open and descended.

Emelia was there, her clothing bloodied and her face ashen white. She had obviously hid from her attackers, but they had found her. And then they had killed her. Without pity. Without mercy.

All strength lost, Lance dropped to his knees and wept.


	4. Purify

**Purify**

_Zhanna,_

_I hope this letter reaches you in good time. There is something very wrong at Underwood, and I believe the corruption of the Order of the Sanguine runs much deeper than appearances would have me believe. The Order preaches openly on the streets, and they have no shame in displaying their scarring for all to see. But this is not what concerns me._

_Just today I investigated the scene of a multiple homicide, the victims a father and his family. This was obviously perpetrated by the Order. The father was killed in an alleyway and the family in their home. I am unsure of why these poor people were killed, but it was almost ritualistic, each killed in exactly the same way, and the mark of the Order branded on their flesh. The Underwood Guard have chalked up the murder of the father to a mugging, and I don't even think they have discovered the deaths of the family yet. They do not perceive the Order as a threat, and did not even bother to properly search the father. Either they are completely incompetent, or they are being paid off by the Order. Or worse, they are active members. None of those options are particularly good._

_The resident priest here, a Father Byrne, is actively condemning the Order as he should. So far he seems the only reasonable person in this town, but I am not taking any chances. This whole town reeks of… something, and I have not revealed my identity or mission to anyone. There is no one here I can trust._

_I'm going to go undercover and infiltrate the Order. I need to know exactly what's going on, and just who is involved, but I have no doubt I'm going to need reinforcements to deal with this cult permanently. Anyone you can send would be much appreciated. However until I get some support I'm going to do my best to keep a low profile._

_On another front, how is Amber? I miss her terribly and want to know she's ok. I've sent her and Lyra letters as well, but I know they'll lie to me if she's not doing well and I can trust you to tell me the truth._

_I look forward to your reply,_

_Best regards,_

_Lance_

Lance folded the letter and placed it in the envelope. He would drop it down to the local post office in the morning.

* * *

"Welcome, good sir! I am glad you have given me the chance to call you brother."

The mad preacher Lance had met the day he arrived at Underwood shook his hand vigorously. Lance smiled gently, doing his best to hide his lingering disgust. If he was going to be successful in infiltrating the Order, he was going to have to bury his feelings very deep indeed.

"I'm looking forward to seeing what you can offer me." Lance replied, still sounding non-committal.

"Before the day is out I assure you we will have you convinced." He smiled, an almost wicked grin. "Before we continue, I should introduce myself. My name is Vito."

"Joshua." Lance lied.

"Well, Joshua, please come with me." Vito stated, leading Lance into the large barn.

Lance had been genuinely surprised when he had first seen the barn. He had expected something that was more befitting of an extremist blood cult, like an underground cavern with the skulls of the unworthy on pikes and leering effigies of demons carved into the rock. Maybe they were inside.

However once the doors opened Lance had to admit a secret disappointment. The barn looked like a normal temple; there was nothing to really hint at the heinous nature of the Order. The only references to blood were the symbols of the Order scattered throughout, everything else looked like any temple anywhere. _This must be a front for the new recruits, to weed out those less than totally convinced._

"I have to admit I was expecting something different." Lance stated as they walked up to the altar. Sitting on top of the altar was a small bowl.

Vito grinned. "Most say that. They expect us all to be vampires or something. On the contrary, considering we believe that sin flows within our blood, drinking it would be like absorbing the sins of others. Goes against the idea of purity doesn't it?"

"Actually now that you mention it, it does."

Vito stopped at the altar and handed Lance a pin. "Now before the service begins, every member must place a drop of blood in the bowl. This is to symbolize our ongoing commitment to the path we tread. Are you ready?"

Lance said nothing but simply nodded.

* * *

The service was lengthy, and like most sermons bored the pants off of Lance. He had been given a white robe to denote his status as a fresh acolyte, and it itched on any skin that was exposed. By the end of the service his neck and lower arms felt raw.

At first he had thought there were only two stages, acolyte and full member. However as the members had arrived and given their blood devotion, Lance noticed that their robes varied in shade, from the white of the acolytes through to pink and red. The head priest of the chapter wore a robe of the deepest crimson. Vito's robes were a more vibrant red, and Lance surmised he was about half way up the rankings. _The head priest's body must be a roadmap of scars._ Lance thought.

The last act of the head priest was to call up one of the members to prove his devotion. A young man with pinkish robes got up and stood next to the altar, before extending his wrists out in front of him. The head priest took a very nasty looking ceremonial dagger from underneath his robes and in a single motion sliced the man's wrists. As the blood flowed the head priest began chanting. This went on for a number of minutes and the man slowly dropped to his knees, landing in the pool of blood gathering at his feet. As the congregation looked on in expectation, Lance looked on in horror.

This young man was going to die.

As the man lost consciousness he collapsed into the head priests arms, and the head priest embraced him tight. However his chanting changed, and after a few moments the colour returned to the man's face. He stood up as though nothing had happened and waved to the cheering congregation. Lance noticed that his wounds were healed, leaving only a small scar on each wrist. Obviously at the last moment the head priest had used a healing incantation.

The service ended with the man being presented with a new robe, a darker robe to indicate a rise in rank. The congregation rose to congratulate the man and lively banter filled the barn. Vito congratulated the man then walked over to Lance.

"What was that?" Lance asked, trying to hide his horror.

"Braxton has proven his devotion through exsanguination, and has risen to the next rank of the Order. He shall take part in further rituals, and he shall learn more about our history and our purpose. He will begin to guide acolytes like yourself along the true path." Vito replied.

"He looked like he was about to die."

"There is no risk; our head priest is well trained in the healing arts. Not a single person has died from the initiation rites. The only thing you have to overcome is your fear." Vito stated. "Do you want initiate into our Order Joshua? And learn our ways?"

Lance paused, inhaling deeply. He didn't want to do it, but he was still on the outside looking in. This was the only way he was going to get closer to the truth. "All right."

"Excellent! I shall give you an hour to prepare yourself." Vito beamed. "First initiations are always done privately, so once the congregation leaves we can start. I will be there as your sponsor so to speak, but I will just be an observer to give you strength. Go now and prepare yourself acolyte."

* * *

Lance inhaled as he stepped up to the altar, presenting his wrists to the head priest and that wicked blade. He had spent the last half an hour listening to the most boring speech around devotion he had ever heard and part of him honestly felt bleeding out was preferable.

The priest, perhaps sensing Lance didn't want to hear any more rambling ran the blade across his wrists in a single motion. Lance flinched, but didn't feel any pain. _That's one sharp blade._

It wasn't long before the blood loss began to cloud his vision, and like Braxton he dropped to his knees. The sound of footsteps caught his attention, and craning his neck he could see the congregation begin to move into the barn.

"What… is this?" Lance stammered weakly. "I thought this was… private."

The head priest smiled, and Lance knew he was in trouble. "You have been deemed unworthy, Lance Shadowstalker. Let the beasts claim you, because this congregation shall not."

_Oh shit. How did they know?_

The head priest leaned in. Lance's vision was so blurry he could barely make out his face. "You are a heathen, and you seek to destroy this Order. You shall die as a message to others who attempt to subvert our holy cause."

His vision gone entirely, Lance fell to the sounds of mocking laughter.


	5. Some Kind of Monster

**Some Kind of Monster**

_Hah, jokes on you, suckers._

Lance opened his eyes and groaned slightly before smiling to himself.

_Like I'm going to let someone cut my wrists without a backup plan._

Zhanna's potions had been every bit as potent as her healing magic. The blue one had kept him from dying, and the green one made sure he recovered faster. He still had the red one, but he had a feeling he would need it soon. He was glad they'd given him that private time before the ceremony, and thus allowed him to drink the potions in secret.

Looking around without moving, he could see he was in an underground cavern. _Yes! I knew they had one of these!_ Despite having been found out and almost killed, Lance felt elated. He put it down to the fact that his contingency plan had gone off without a hitch, but also that his adrenaline was pumping like he was in the midst of battle.

Which he might be sooner than expected.

He sat up in response to a shuffling sound. Drawing his kukri from under his bloody robes, Lance spun around in the direction of the noise to see a Rotling, an insidious little carrion eater. Without a moment's pause he dispatched it with a quick strike from his blade, its lifeless form collapsing in front of him.

Now that he had a moment to think, he realised just what the presence of the Rotling meant. It meant that the Order of the Sanguine was in league with the Shadow. They'd brought Lance here to be devoured, to remove the evidence of his existence. He had to get to the surface and somehow get this information to Zhanna. He wasn't going to risk sending something by post again; in fact he now doubted his first letter had ever made it out of Underwood.

Lance got to his feet and removed his bloody robe, revealing his normal clothing again. Slowly making his way out of the Rotling chamber, Lance looked around at his options. The path went in two directions, one obviously heading down, and one heading back up. Lance was about to head straight up when he saw a flicker of light in the other direction. It was enough to pique his interest, but first he wanted to make sure he could escape.

Thankfully the path up was short and led to a hole in the basement of the barn. The basement was filled with Order of the Sanguine paraphernalia, pamphlets, books and robes. Before heading back down to investigate that light, Lance grabbed the darkest robe he could find. He assumed that to know about this Shadow connection one would have to be high up in the Order, which meant he didn't want to look out of place by walking around as an acolyte.

The path down was far longer than the one to the barn and ominously lit by torchlight. It led into a small room, supported by stone pillars and containing a half dozen cultists. Quickly taking refuge behind a pillar, Lance listened into the conversation. All six members wore deep crimson robes, so were obviously highly ranked. This was probably the leadership of this Chapter. Mentally, Lance quickly numbered them one to six in his head so he could more easily follow the conversation.

"Has the Rotling done its work?" One said. "We need that meddling Lance gone forever."

"Should only be another half an hour." Four replied, his voice a deep baritone. "They work quickly."

"His presence here means that we're starting to get attention from the outside. We should be grateful that Sameth made us aware as soon as he started asking questions." Two stated.

_I knew it! Sameth is a traitor!_

"So what is our next move?" Three asked. While the robes made it impossible to tell visually, the voice gave away that Three was a woman.

"Underwood is ours. As long as we keep the outside world blissfully unaware, we can operate with complete freedom. We should move on as per the Master's wishes." One replied.

"I'll send a team immediately." Three replied.

The meeting had obviously ended at this point, and Lance got out of the room before they left. He had to get away from this place in case they realised the Rotling hadn't done its job. Climbing through into the basement of the barn, Lance cracked the door open leading into the barn proper. He breathed a sigh of relief as he realised no one was there. Moving quickly, he headed out of the barn and to freedom.

* * *

Lance sat in his hotel room, throwing knives into the wall. He had been doing it for over an hour, throwing a knife, getting up, pulling it out of the wall, sitting down on the edge of the bed, and throwing it again. He had no idea what he was going to do next, in fact with the Guard involved it was going to be difficult to even leave his room, let alone the town. And the inactivity was driving him around the bend. By his calculations it was still going to be at least three days before Zhanna got his letter, assuming it left Underwood at all.

One other thing that was troubling him was the obvious plans of this Master. From the conversations he'd overheard they were already putting something into motion, sending a team somewhere. Unfortunately no city walls worked against him here, any team could leave in any direction and catching them would be nigh impossible. At least if there were walls and gates he had somewhere to wait.

As the knife hit the wall one last time, Lance frowned and stood up. Nightfall was coming, and if he was going to be waiting for the next three days, he might as well be productive.

* * *

The sound of wood splintering echoed through the house as Sameth crashed into the wall. Before he could recover Lance grabbed him by the shirt and slammed him through the small coffee table in the centre of the room. Sameth didn't get a chance to even cry out in agony as Lance brought his knee down onto Sameth's neck, choking him.

"Talk you miserable bastard." Lance snarled.

Sameth struggled to breathe, and was ineffectually slapping at Lance to try and free himself. As he was about to pass out from lack of oxygen, Lance released the pressure just enough for him to suck in a lungful of air.

"Blacking out isn't fun is it? Tell me what you know about the Order or I'll black you out permanently. And painfully."

"Screw you." Sameth spat.

"Wrong answer piggy." Lance drew his kukri and placed it precariously close to Sameth's right eye. "Care to reconsider?"

Sameth tried in vain to move his head away from the blade, but Lance's knee held him fast. Lance could practically see Sameth's heart beating in his chest, and wondered if he was going to have a heart attack before Lance could elicit any meaningful information from him.

"Ok! Ok! Please don't kill me!" Sameth squealed.

"Talk."

"The Order pays us off. They stop the Shadow attacks and we look the other way. I had no choice! Underwood was dying!"

"You're a fool. The Order isn't stopping the Shadow, they're in league with them. They're still killing you, but now they're doing it slowly and milking you for all you're worth."

"What are you talking about?" Sameth exclaimed.

"The Order, they've got Rotlings as pets. They practice vile blood rituals. They serve someone known as The Master. It doesn't take a genius to figure it out."

"Rotlings?" Sameth replied. "I never knew I swear! Please, you have to believe me!"

Lance paused for a moment then stood up, giving Sameth a chance to roll into a seating position. His neck was bruised due to Lance's knee, and as he caught his breath he winced in pain.

"You're lucky I have a use for you." Lance stated. "Otherwise you'd be food for the Shadow."

"Me help you?" Sameth panted. "They'll kill me."

"I'll kill you if you don't." Lance retorted. "But if you help me there's a chance you'll see the sunrise."

"How?"

"Ignore me. Pretend I don't exist."

"I… I can do that. I can make sure you're not hassled. But don't be too obvious."

"Good. But if I even _think_ someone is making a move against me, I'll be back to gut you like the fat swine you are."

* * *

Surprisingly, Sameth kept his promise. Lance still didn't trust him, and had taken to sleeping in the shed at the Vancet's property in case of betrayal, but he was able to move around the town unmolested provided he dyed his hair and wore some fake facial hair. He spent the time wisely, following members of the Order and secretly observing their meetings. He made plans and monitored comings and goings. When his reinforcements arrived he would be ready to tear the Order of the Sanguine down.

On the fourth day since his escape from the Order, a flicker of light outside the shed got Lance's attention, visible through the cracks in the panelling. As he moved toward the door, he could see the flicker of light grow brighter and brighter before snuffing out in an instant. Unsure what to expect he opened the door to the grinning face of Serena and the slightly dour expression of Eladwen.

"What are you doing here?" Lance asked.

Serena's grin grew wider. "We're the reinforcements."

"It'll do." Lance said flatly, his tone very businesslike as he turned to Eladwen. "Things have gotten far worse than I anticipated. I need to speak to Zhanna." He stared intently at both women.

"Now."


	6. Damage Inc

**Damage Inc.**

"This is most disturbing Lance." Zhanna sighed. Lance had spent the last half an hour regaling her with his time in Underwood, and by the time he had finished, the worry was etched on her face.

Serena and Eladwen looked concerned too. Lance hadn't explained anything to them prior to the portal ride over, but it was clear now why he didn't want to waste any time getting this information to Zhanna.

"I will begin making arrangements to have an army prepared." Zhanna said after a few moments. "There is nothing more you can do for the moment Lance, go home and see Amber. Serena and Eladwen will stay with me and help prepare."

Lance nodded. "Thank you."

Lance walked out of the temple and began the familiar trek back to his home. He was looking forward to sleeping on something other than a bale of hay, and his back ached in anticipation. But more than that, he'd finally be able to spend some time with Amber before he was whisked away to Underwood again. It was time he'd make the most of.

As he ascended the stairs to their apartment he got that shiver up his spine whenever something wasn't right. Honed instincts caused him to draw his kukri as he reached the entrance. There was light in the apartment; that much he could tell through the crack under the door. But there was something else; shards of broken glass could be seen. The door was unlocked, and as he opened the door his instincts were once again proven correct.

Their apartment was a shambles. Glass was everywhere, windows, cups and decorations all shattered and destroyed. There were blood streaks on the walls and the floor. The bed had been overturned and the chairs looked like a cyclone had thrown them around the apartment.

And then there were the bodies.

A half dozen dead men lay strewn around the rooms, either with knives buried in their chests, skulls caved in from blunt force trauma, or their necks snapped in a display of sheer brutality. All displayed the mark of the Order branded on their flesh.

"AMBER!" Lance shouted.

"She's…. gone." A weak voice stammered from behind an upturned table. Hurrying to the source of the voice he found Lyra clutching a torso wound and sitting in a pool of her own blood.

"Lyra!" Lance shouted, dropping to his knees. "Hold on, I'll stop the bleeding."

Lance tore the sleeves off his shirt and turned them into a makeshift pressure bandage, wrapping them tightly around her torso. She screamed through clenched teeth as he tightened it.

"Lance…. I'm sorry." Lyra whispered. "Please forgive me."

"What happened?" Lance asked, his voice breaking as panic threatened to take hold.

"Men, a dozen of them… They took her." Lyra coughed, and a drop of blood landed on the floor. "Tried to stop them…"

"Ok, just relax, breathe. I'll get help." Lance screamed out the window at the streets below for someone to get Zhanna. Thankfully there was a city guard on patrol and he instantly began running toward the temple.

He returned to Lyra. She'd coughed up more blood and was struggling to keep her eyes open. "Stay with me Lyra."

"I'm sorry, it's too much." Lyra's face was cold to the touch.

"No…. don't talk like that. Help's coming. Just hold on." Lance closed his eyes to keep the tears at bay. When he opened them again Lyra had gone limp. Lance grabbed her held her tight, trying to keep her warm.

"Hold on. Just hold on."

* * *

Zhanna burst into the apartment, but she was too late. Despite her best efforts there was no bringing Lyra back, she had taken her last breath long before Zhanna had arrived. Unable to revive the dead, she instead focused on the living and attempted to console the grieving Lance. As he cried in her arms she could feel the hatred emanating from his soul, and she knew that those responsible would feel a terrible vengeance heading their way before long.

* * *

The congregation took pause as the portal opened behind the altar. Their curiosity turned to terror as the first of Lance's throwing knives connected with the head priest, embedding itself in his shoulder. As he dropped to the ground in agony the barn filled with fire and lightning as Eladwen unleashed her arcane might into the heathens. Serena followed, but even though she stepped through a few seconds after Eladwen there was little for her to do. This was Lance's battle, and Lance tore through the congregation with his mind and body focused on a singular goal.

Massacre.

Try as they might, the congregation could not stand against Lance's fury. If his kukri was not sufficient to claim a life, his throwing knives bridged the gap. Some of the Order members fought back, but it was like children battling a Titan, Lance casting them aside as though they were made of paper. Many attempted to run, but Eladwen blocked the exits with walls of flame. Trapped, they all fell. Quickly. Decisively.

Only partially satiated with the carnage, Lance made his way back to the altar and the only Order member still alive in the barn. The head priest had attempted to crawl to safety, but Serena had stopped him, pushing Lance's knife further into his wound with her boot and causing him to crumple to the ground. Lance grabbed the weakened man and thrust him into the temple lectern so hard it rocked on its base. He looked into the priest's eyes and his hot breath brought threats of vile retribution.

"Amber Rain. Where is she?!" Lance roared. "WHERE IS SHE?!"

The priest flinched, and his face was stricken with terror. Lance pushed the blade further into the man's shoulder to elicit a response.

"Please stop! Please!" He screamed.

"WHERE IS SHE?!" Lance repeated; his voice like a thunderclap.

"Tenebros. She's at…. Tenebros."

"WHY DID YOU TAKE HER?!"

The priest looked up, and perhaps knowing his fate, smiled in a final display of defiance. "Because she is to serve a higher purpose."


	7. Master of Puppets

**Master of Puppets**

The city of Tenebros was a mining city in the east, made rich not by Shadow Crystals, but by the massive iron ore deposits underneath its surface. Day in and day out men trudged through the mines with their pickaxes and backpacks, digging out the ore then slowly hauling it back to the surface to be smelted and refined. The mine shafts and tunnels themselves extended kilometres underground, making any kind of ore extraction a dangerous prospect. Areas of the mines that were depleted, suffered cave-ins or had simply gotten too dangerous were forgotten, and stricken from the mining maps. This meant that underneath Tenebros was a labyrinth of vacant tunnels and it was here the Order of the Sanguine had set up their main base of operations, only accessible by someone who had an extensive knowledge of the mines themselves.

Or three warriors with a portal and a burning desire for vengeance.

The Order members were completely unprepared for the assault. They believed their base invisible and impregnable, and those in the first tunnel were cut down within a matter of moments. Eladwen let Lance and Serena do most of the fighting, and instead concentrated on crowd control with freeze and web spells. Unleashing her full arcane power would no doubt trigger a cave-in, and she would wait until _after_ they had rescued Amber before bringing this place down on the Order's collective head.

Moving through the tunnels, the three brought low any resistance offered by the Order, and as they progressed the pact between the Order and the Shadow became more apparent, human members fighting side by side with Gargoyles and Flayers. Eventually the Order defence broke down and they retreated to a larger cavern, where their numbers could be brought to bear against the intruders. As the trio stepped into the cavern an entire menagerie of beasts and men were waiting for them. Blades were drawn, and snapping mouths were ravenous for blood and flesh. To the outside observer, it looked as though Lance, Serena and Eladwen were about to meet their end.

The horde charged in, a tidal wave of fangs and steel looking to extract bloody vengeance for their brothers killed along the way. The horde was so blinded by bloodlust they didn't notice Eladwen smiling until it was too late. Her staff flickered with eldritch power and a wave of cold blasted outward from it, freezing the horde in place. Monsters and men were converted into living ice blocks, and with a wicked grin and a subtle flick of Eladwen's wrist, the horde shattered as though hit by a sledgehammer.

As the remnants of the horde melted into the floor due to the ice succumbing to the heat in the cavern, a solitary clapping sound could be heard. Turning to the source of the sound, the trio found a single robed and hooded figure in the corner applauding them mockingly. "I must say I'm impressed." Her voice a sultry purr. "But now you have to deal with _me_."

"Somehow I doubt that's going to be much of a challenge." Serena retorted, but Lance didn't share Serena's confidence. The shiver up his spine was back.

Eladwen didn't waste any time with retorts, lighting blasting out from her fingertips. The hooded figure was fast however, inhumanly so. She easily dodged the lightning strike and began to close the distance between her and the trio. Eladwen was about to use her staff again, but the woman was too close, and with a flurry of blows, simultaneously snapped the staff and shattered Eladwen's ribcage.

With Eladwen out of the fight, Serena unfurled her whip and swung it at their assailant, wrapping it around her neck. As she pulled on the whip to strangle her, the woman grabbed the whip and twisted, sending a surprised Serena tumbling to the ground before she could release her grip. Removing the whip from around her neck the woman was distracted for a moment, which gave Lance a chance to release a pair of throwing knives. The first flew wide, but the second embedded in the woman's stomach, and she stumbled backward from the impact. Lance pressed the advantage by striking out with his kukri, but the woman had somehow recovered and simply ducked under the blow. Without pause she removed the knife from her stomach and began to use it to defend against Lance's assault. As Lance and the woman were locked in a deadly struggle, Serena picked herself up and collected her fallen whip. Lashing out again, this time she connected with the woman's face, stunning her for a second and allowing Lance to go for the killing strike.

The woman once again proved her resilience and speed however, narrowly avoiding the strike meant for her heart and grabbing Lance's arm instead. With a twist and a pull she snapped it in three places, and Lance hit the ground in agony. Serena kicked at the woman, knocking her to the ground, but the woman rolled to her feet before Serena could press the advantage.

_What are you?_ Serena thought to herself as she lashed out with her whip. The woman seemed to be without pain as the whip connected with her shoulder, the force merely causing her to stumble for a moment. Serena took a couple of steps backward to keep some distance between her and her assailant, and launched a trio of knives. As if to prove her utter dominance, the woman dodged two of the blades, but caught the third mid-flight. Serena's expression of surprise turned to agony as her knife was violently returned to her, catching itself in her shoulder.

Serena screamed and dropped to one knee, before violently lashing at the woman's ankles to knock her off balance. But with pain clouding her thoughts she could not focus and the woman easily avoided the attack. She grabbed the weakened Serena and brought her knee up into Serena's stomach, winding her, before smashing her face into the ground. As a final act she tossed the broken Serena to the side, causing her to land next to Lance and Eladwen.

As the woman walked over to the trio, presumably to finish them off, Lance caught sight of her wounds through the tattered robe, and the black blood staining her torso.

"You…" Lance stammered.

"Yes, me." Clarissa replied simply, removing her hood and revealing a horribly scarred visage. Burns covered most of her face and forced her mouth into a hideous rictus grin. "Your attack on Windspire took away the one thing I hold most dear. It's time I returned the favour."


	8. Sweet Amber

**Sweet Amber**

Lance groaned as the pair of cultists dragged him behind them. His arm burned with pain and it honestly felt as though it was going to fall out of its socket. He could hear similar groaning from Serena and Eladwen as more cultists pulling them along behind. Clarissa was up front, leading them God-knows-where. Lance was tired of the silence so he decided to speak up.

"What.. have you done with Amber?" He asked weakly, trying to inject as much venom as he could into his voice and failing miserably.

"You'll see, all in due time." Clarissa replied. "You know, the Order of the Sanguine is your creation."

"What… are you talking about?"

Clarissa stopped. In response the procession came to a grinding halt and another blast of pain shot through Lance's arm. Clarissa walked over to him and knelt down; bringing her scarred face so close it filled his vision.

"Look at me." She grabbed Lance's face. "LOOK AT ME! I'm hideous. I can no longer hunt, no longer bring men to their knees with lust, and no longer fill their hearts with unholy desire. I needed flesh, needed blood, and needed worship. So I created the Order of the Sanguine. Because you did this to me."

"I didn't do that." Lance replied. "I thought you'd got away clean."

"Well I didn't leave anyone alive to say otherwise." Clarissa retorted. "But one of the priests with your army sprayed me with holy water. It will never heal. All these other wounds will be gone tomorrow, but this…" she waved her hand over her face. "This is for life. And I'm immortal."

"So this is just revenge?" Lance spat, a trickle of blood leaving his mouth as he did.

"Hardly. This is about hunger. The revenge is icing." Clarissa leaned in and licked the blood off of Lance's lips. "But it's delicious icing."

* * *

Clarissa hadn't spoken anymore after that, and Lance couldn't get any more information out of her, so all he could do is bear the pain as he was hauled along. Eventually the procession made it into a small chamber at the end of one of the mining tunnels. All around the chamber were candles and Shadow Crystals. On the floor was a gigantic rune and text which glowed with power. And in the centre of the rune was an altar with Amber splayed across it, arms and legs bound to the corners of the table. She didn't struggle; she looked as though she was drugged.

"Amber!" Lance spluttered. He looked up at Clarissa. "What have you done to her?"

"She's been prepared." Clarissa purred. She turned to the cultists dragging Lance and the others, pointing to one corner. "Put them over there."

The cultists unceremoniously dumped the trio in the corner, and Lance could hear Eladwen yelp in pain. She was struggling to breathe, and Lance was really concerned one of her ribs had punctured a lung. Clarissa smiled before heading over the altar and gently ran her hand over Amber's prone body.

"So this is it? You're going to kill her?" Lance exclaimed.

Clarissa laughed as she gently pushed the hair from Amber's face. She was so still, like she was paralysed. The only clue that she was still alive was that her chest slowly rose and fell as she took breath. "No. She will die, but not like you think. She is going to be a vessel."

Clarissa walked over to Lance again, his face stricken with agony. She crouched down and Lance instinctively pulled away from that horrific visage. "I'm going to possess her, take her face and body and make it my own. I will be able to hunt, once again make pitiful men my playthings. And you shall be my first victim." She placed her hand on his crotch. "I shall give you one last congress with your lover then I will devour your soul."

Lance struggled to stand, to fight, to do _something_. But he was helpless and Clarissa knew it. She stood up and moved back to the altar, taking a wicked blade from one of the cultists as she did so.

"Please stop, kill me, do what you have to, but leave Amber alone!" Lance cried, but Clarissa simply ignored his pleas as she anointed and prepared the blade. "PLEASE!"

Lance struggled to get to his feet, and had almost succeeded when one of the cultists kicked him back to the ground, stepping on one of his hands for good measure. Any further attempts to stand were beaten back by the cultists.

Having finished her preparation, Clarissa raised the blade far over her head. Lance looked on in horror as she brought it down into Amber's chest.

But there was nothing.

The blade hovered a centimetre from Amber's body, and would not sink any lower. A slight yellowish flicker played across Amber as Clarissa tried over and over to embed the dagger in Amber's chest. Lance, Serena and Eladwen looked on in disbelief as the flicker began to extend over their bodies too. And then they heard the sound of rushing water.

The torrent of water came on with such force, such ferocity, that the cultists in the room were dead before their bodies were crushed against the walls. Even Clarissa's unholy constitution could not stand against such power, and she too was crushed between the water and the rocks. However Amber, Lance and the others were unaffected, the flicker protecting them as surely as it protected Amber from the sting of that blade. As quickly as it had come, the water just drained away, as if magically sinking through the rock walls.

As Clarissa groaned and struggled to breathe, the sound of footsteps became apparent. She had managed to prop herself up on her elbows when she was blown back into the wall, a burst of holy energy leaving Zhanna's fingertips. As Clarissa writhed in agony Zhanna untied Amber. She placed her hand on Amber's head and within moments Amber coughed and sat up. She leaned over the side of the altar and vomited, expelling all the ritual substances she had been forced to drink. Giving Amber a moment to recover, Zhanna attended to the others, healing each in turn enough to stand. They would take much longer to recover fully, but they were at least mobile.

Having thanked Zhanna profusely, Lance shuffled over to Amber and gave her a bear hug, but Clarissa's groans brought their attention back to the succubus. She had managed to sit up against the wall, though she was still struggling to breathe. Without a word, Lance gave Amber his kukri and she walked over Clarissa.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Clarissa snarled, arching her neck back. "Do it bitch."

And Amber did.


	9. The Memory Remains

**The Memory Remains (Epilogue)**

Lance squeezed Amber's hand as the coffin containing Lyra Blackrose was gently lowered into the ground. He bit back the tears as he looked around at the other fallen heroes that lay in this graveyard. Normal people, who by some twist of fate had found themselves in the middle of this war, and had given their lives for a cause much larger than themselves.

Zhanna gave her final blessings, wishing Lyra a safe path to the afterlife. Lance could see that she too was feeling the strain. Since she had saved them from Clarissa, her retribution against the remains of the Order of the Sanguine had been nothing short of brutal. In a single night, armies that Zhanna had mobilised all across the land tore through known Order strongholds, isolating, arresting and finally burning the heretics. From what Lance had heard the fires had reached the heavens, and many claimed they could see the souls of demons fleeing their burning hosts.

He sighed as he turned his attention to Zhanna once again. She had finished the service and gently closed her prayer book. As the congregation dispersed, Lance realised just how little time Lyra had had to make personal connections. There were only a half dozen other people here, and bar Eladwen and Serena they were all people within Lance's organisation. It was something that saddened him as much as her death. He made a vow then and there that he would not make that same mistake; that he would once again begin to focus on the people around him instead of keeping them at arms-length.

"How are you holding up?" Zhanna asked.

Lance swallowed. "We're managing." He paused for a moment, "But I can't help but blame myself for this."

Zhanna nodded. "It's natural Lance." She placed a hand on his shoulder. "But you and I both know Lyra wouldn't have walked away when you needed her."

Lance managed a weak smile, recalling what Lyra had said before he had left for Underwood. "Yeah, I know. It doesn't make it any easier. She was the sister I never had."

"Rest assured she's still watching over you." Zhanna replied, looking at Amber as well. "Both of you. And she'll be there to give you support from the heavens."

"I know."

Zhanna tilted her head slightly. "So what are you two planning to do now?"

"I've taken some time away from the Guard." Amber stated. "I think we're just going to take it easy for a while, spend some time together."

"We need to find a new place to live." Lance added, looking at Amber. "I can't go back there."

Amber squeezed his hand. "I know."

"I can make arrangements for temporary accommodation." Zhanna offered. "Also, I've been authorised to provide a significant financial compensation for your assistance to the Temple. It should help you settle wherever you want."

"Thank you." Lance said simply.

"I'll leave you to say your final good byes. Come and see me when you're ready." Zhanna then turned and slowly made her way out of the cemetery.

Lance and Amber stayed with Lyra for a long time after everyone else had left. When they finally did leave, their path was clear. The Shadow had been thought defeated, but it was not the case. They were still out there plotting humanity's downfall. So Lance and Amber would rest and recover, regain their strength. Because they both knew a storm was brewing.

And the Shadow could expect their response in the thunder.


End file.
